Swaying to the long spin of a single web,
I am the alone centerfuge,
Against a midnight deep and speckled blanket.
The wind, dances me and thrashes as fear plays to the bounce of sharp jolting, and long glides as if tip-toeing on the air itself.
The sky, not just God's blanket, but mine.
The wind, not just God's kiss, but Her breath, her heartbeat, her rhyme,
Her Womb
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